12-14-01 To whom it may concern ~ The following snippets are taken from various email correspondences I have had with my friend Chad over the past year. In fact, it was Chad who suggested I send these to you for your "First Annual Crazy Contest". Many people will laugh... some will be upset.... But make no mistake - if it's "crazy" you want, it's "crazy" you gets! You will note common themes (urine, feces, violence, genitals, and Pampers to name a few)... But read them as individual works, not as a collective whole... like a daily meditation. Feel free to read them aloud to friends or family. Try doing it with a British accent. Shout the words occasionally. And now, with no further ado: Just as the majestic cow has several stomachs, my system is comprised of several asses. They all have the distinct scent of feces, except one... which smells of lilac. I try to conceal my buttockses by wearing baggy jeans, but I simply have too much ass. People will stop and ask me, "Are you deformed?" or say "You frighten everyone"... My reply is thus, "Ass makes not the man... Man makes the ass". They usually squint at me in disgust and walk away. Nay, I am not offended... Nor do I feel less of a man. Quite honestly, I feel that there is just more of me to love... At least, more ass of me to love. No one should drink my urine. You should, however, drink thine own. It promotes strong breath and healthy gag reflexes. Were you to consume my fluid, you would merely vomit. Merely vomit, I say! Folding one's genitals repeatedly not only causes severe bruising, but uncomfortable dinner conversation. I once swallowed 5 pennies, and I shat a nickel... To further experiment, I swallowed 2 nickels - and shat a dime! This process evolved and expanded until I was up to swallowing 4 quarters and shitting Sacagawea coins... When I conquered that, I moved on to a $10 U.S. Capitol Visitor Center Commemorative silver coin, and shat blood. If I could change my name to anything at all, I would probably change it to Jesus Christ... Originally, I thought I would change it to Hercules, but apparently that one's already been taken. Some people give themselves soup-enemas, and some people are me. Ridicule your own skin-pickle while knitting a pair of fancy meat-pants. Dear Friend, Hello, my name is Scott, and I'm writing to share with you an exciting new offer! For a limited time only, you and a close friend are entitled to a free* month of unlimited pee-hole access! "How can this be?" you're probably wondering... We here at Happy Times, Inc. have gathered a small group of developmentally challenged midget orphans, and kept them in cages with limited food and water. Every hour, our technicians manually enlarge the subjects' pee-hole, so that we can bring you this incredible offer! "What do I get?" you're probably asking yourself aloud... In addition to hours of free* pee-hole exploration, you also get a fancy new pair of socks (embroidered with random first-names). Here's what other customers have had to say: "I absolutely love the freedom! I never knew the pee-hole could be so exciting!... Also, I love my free* 'Kevin' socks." ~ Sally Cockenbalz, Florida "With so much free* pee-hole to explore, I had to quit my job and get a divorce!... Pee-hole is my new best friend!... Oh, and the 'Ted' socks are nice too." ~ Chester Balsac, New Mexico "I am the Dark Lord! I can't stop laughing! Bugs! There's bugs all over me! Ha hA ha!... the 'Randy' socks are in my anus now." ~ Hank Moustache, Minnesota Yes, take it from these folks - Explore the pee-hole today. It costs nothing to join**, and only $700 to quit. Order now! * "free" is to be replaced by the word "$700" ** "nothing to join" is also a lie. Note: All midgets are harmed in this process, and not all of them are actually orphans. Disclaimer: I'm not wearing any pants I don't think it's polite to stare... especially when it's over the top of a bathroom stall. In which case it is even more impolite to point or ask questions. When I eat a roast beef sandwich, I try very hard not to pretend the roast beef is human flesh. If someone approaches me with a whimsical look on their face, I usually slap them immediately. Not only does it change their expression, but it often times leads to very intense physical aggression. I once told a fellow, "You are an ass, sir" He laughed at first... Until I repeated the statement. Eventually I discovered that he was not only a minister, but he was also on live television. It never ceases to amaze me how well kittens bounce. If you exercise too much, you can cause serious injury to your muscles... A much quicker solution is to use a hammer and/or nail gun. For a good ice-breaker, I like introducing new games at parties... like "Hammer the Groin", or "King of Slap". I like to pretend that your foreskin is a very humorous hat, which I wear on my gigantic skull. After I drive my trike around the block, I like to remove the skin-cap and toss it on a hook. There it sits all night while I sleep - dreaming of beautiful cheesecake & hysterical marmalade... In the morning, I find that your foreskin/hat is withered and dusty. I laugh and laugh because it's very awkward and I'm on several doses of acid. I also like to imagine that my flesh is really a thin layer of bacon. Dig in! Eat the bacon! Eat the flesh from my bones, for I am Jesus McBacon and my body is bacon! Drink my blood, for it is Holy Syrup! Ha ha!... I have soiled my own diapers now! Yes... yes, indeed I have! It is both comforting and foul. If you were to now squish your face in-between someone's butt cheeks, I would be forever amused. Do it! Amuse me, or you shall forever be known as "Cabbage McPoopcob" and be forced to wear shiny dresses! I will also throw pennies at your eyes! Amuse me immediately, or pay the price! Whip out your man-teats and slap them about in a wild manner. Name your teats "Hal" and "Cindy"!... Refer to them now! Tell Hal he's an awful teat! Twist Cindy and call her a stupid teat! Refer to your own teats as if they were people! Humiliate your own body parts! Ha ha ha! I am amused, dammit! You've amused me to the point of exhaustion!... I am filthy in my Pampers! So damp! So incredibly smelly! I just ate too many mushrooms! Wheee! Your miserable raisin-sack makes me want to giggle like a foolish child. It is my understanding that you also have mysteriously large pepperonis. Those things are true and hilarious, but this is false and terrifying: I'm not wearing clean diapers. Which means, of course, that my Pampers are soily and foul! Cry for me! Weep like a ninny and clap like a seal, tra la la! I like amusing myself by snapping my privates with rubber bands. And by "amusing" I mean "hospitalizing". Does this make you cackle? Hmmm?! Does it make you titter and squeal? Eh?! Does it make you shit out of your pee-hole and make fart noises with your armpits while firing snot out of your nostrils and thumbing your anus after slapping your testicles against your belly while gargling your own vomit? Hmmm?! Or does it make you think of gentle autumn leaves falling gracefully to the cool morning grass - with a scent of lilac in the breeze and the sound of the lone mourning dove, cooing atop the sturdy maple? When I sit on the toilet, I always prepare myself to be amazed. I keep my breath baited, and my mind open... Anything can (and usually does) happen. But not even on my finest day would I have guessed that a small orange would be expunged. I was immediately shocked as the mass of fruity pulp fired from my butt-end. It floated perfectly in the toilet, bobbing up and down amongst a sparse batch of my ass-goulash. I let out an embarrassingly high-pitched cackle. I had a few minutes of unrestrained celebration - composed of laughter, dance, guttural barking, crap-flinging, and intense joy. I was then immediately filled with disappointment & shame... I bawled for several minutes. Not even the delicious orange could stop my tears. And then, as if the gods themselves were answering my desperate prayers, I felt an intense throbbing pain emerging in my bowels... At first is was merely a tremor... then a shudder... followed by quivers... a few sudden sphincter-spasms... clenching... cramping... sweating... contortions! I threw my weight towards the toilet, but it was too late... An intense "clapping" sound was discharged as a geyser of sauce surged from my disfigured dung-chute. I peppered the walls with my brown slush as I tried to get my bearings. I was confused and cold... I felt moments away from complete disembowelment. And suddenly... it stopped. Everything stood completely still... A few "flops" were heard as my waste drooled to the tiled floor, but otherwise, completely silent. I wiped my face and looked around... To my surprise, there stood a small man wearing a tuxedo. His face was cheerful... his eyes a little too spread apart. Was he human? Why was he so happy? I asked him, "Who are you?"... The smile on his face slowly faded... He started to approach me... I reached for my side-arm, only to realize that I've never owned a gun... He neared... I tried to tell him to stop... "Stop!" I said... "Please stay where you are"... He let out a deep holler and leapt towards me... and what happened next was something I'll never forget... As an added feature, here is a list of the various names we've used to refer to one another in our correspondence: ~ Cupper ~ Anus Wallet ~ Cabbage Fist ~ FoamBoy McCheeseShorts ~ DampGlove McStinkWrist ~ Scented Skin Pouch ~ Groin Foam ~ Milky Discharge ~ Sphincter Lips ~ Scabby Chode ~ Shaved Pillar ~ Deformed Cylinder ~ Captain McMullet ~ Sir Squats-a-Lot ~ Clump ~ Spooge ~ Suspicious Mayonnaise ~ Hamster Anus ~ Scrotum Bag ~ Cheese Bag ~ Blister Salad ~ Beef Diaper ~ Gummy Moustache ~ Wet Taint ~ Skin Tube ~ Man Teats ~ Pouty Ass Lips ~ Brown Hump Funny?... No. Disturbing?... Potentially. But "CrAzY"?!?... You be the judge. Thanks! ~ Scott Gray-Burlingame